#your organs spilling out but theres not much pain Tumblr posts

[mooneln0ne]

Normal guy and his devil fruit

[actualbird]

OMG I NEED YOUR HELP- Hello! Can you please tell me everything you know about Luke's illness? And i mean EVERYTHING.

How he got it, the symptoms, where in the cards/story explains that etc. Just pour me all the info that you have. Anyway, sorry if I bothered you and thanks in advance!

// spoilers for luke backstory and luke card stories, discussion of terminal illness

hello anon!!! sure thing!!!

i do not have energy to check every single story tho, so all im gonna give u is the stuff i remember, which i hope is a bunch still. im also gonna give u only stuff that is available on the global server. more information is available in future cn server stories, but im not sure if ur okay with spoilers

anyway!!

huh? illness?

luke has a terminal illness. it is first mentioned in the very first part of his personal story 1

how much time does luke supposedly have left due to his illness?

in the first part of his personal story 1, he says hes got three years left to live.

in the first of his personal story 2, aaron takes over as luke's primary physician and says that he's got new treatments that can add 2 months to luke's lifespan

what are the symptoms?

outright said in a lot of stories is the main symptom: imminent death

the only other symptom ive seen though in stories is neuropathic pain. this is a type of pain not prompted by an injury but instead by just something fucked up in the nervous system causing pain signals to get sent to the brain despite the fact theres nothing wrong

i know neuropathic pain episodes have happened several times for luke thus far, but the only instances i can name are in SR Among The Great Blue (where mc finds luke curled up on the floor in pain and luke says a PATHETIC LIE that he swallowed gum he was chewing and was caught off guard) and in SSR Perfect Partner (where luke suddenly cries out in pain coming from his leg even though theres no injury, this one is a bit hazy in my memory bc it's been a v long time since i watched that card)

is luke doing ANYTHING to manage symptoms?

in personal story 1, he mentions hes taking analgesics. aka painkillers. which, i'd like to note, isnt all that great for conditions that cause neuropathic pain.

he takes these painkillers (under the guise of saying theyre vitamin supplements, if ever hes caught by mc) many times. in card stories and even in main story 5.3

thats everything i know that is present in canon!!! buuuuut.....since u said to spill as much info i have.....maybe youd be interested in my theory on his illness as well?

well, even if u arent, i'll put em here anyway KJBJSDGDS

my theories on luke's illness

luke's illness was somehow caused by the NXX drug. the Big Data Lab entry on the Noxious X Xeno-Gene reads:

"In 2005, Pax Pharmaceutical once developed a new gene-based medicine in collaboration with Crimson Biotech. The most prominent side effect of the NXX drug is how it affects the body's hormone production, which in turn affects the person's mental state. In severe cases, it impacts physical development and causes irreversible damage to the nervous system and internal organs."

luke's main symptom is neuropathic pain caused by a fucked nervous system and the NXX drug can severely fuck up the nervous system. im right. im RIGHT.

luke is NOT gonna die. this is maybe my bias speaking but also from a business perspective, tot cant afford to have luke die by the 3 year mark (which, in the cn server, IS NEXT YEAR) lest they lose a huge chunk of their market. either luke is miraculously cured of all ails ooooorrr----

from terminal illness, luke's condition becomes a chronic illness. this is less of a theory and more of a hope of mine, but neuropathic pain is something more common in chronic illnesses so it would make sense. additionally, it makes sense from a business perspective once more bc tot can still have luke as their angst punching bag but for way longer. aside from that like, sue me, my mentally ill ass wants see my fave character dealing with a thing thats never gonna go away and it's a slog but you can live and still be happy, you just have to keep at it everyday. thatd be great.

im 90% sure i missed a LOT but i have a horrible memory.....still, i hope this helps, anon!!!

[illusionage]

OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS.

APHRODITE.   laughter loving.   sweet smiles.   dressed in silk and satin. flower in their hair.   sees the world as a runway.   unapologetically sexual.   the sea washing their ankles.  in love with love.   stirrer of passion.  cunning concealed by painted lips.  secret daggers.   doves.   revolution in their kiss.   delighting in the waves.   flirtatious winks.   strolling along the beach.   staring wistfully from a balcony.  this is how to be a heartbreaker.   wants to be adored.   gets turned on by danger.

APOLLO.     glitz and glamour.   art galleries.   turning the volume up.   being made of gold.  neatly organized music sheets.   notebooks filled with poetry.   bathing in the sunlight. the powerful urge to create.  collecting vinyl records.   beautiful cover of wonderwall.   playing multiple instruments.   tasting like sunshine.   healing touch.   speaking in prophecies.   smile mingled with wrath.   shunning lies.   sporting shades. hanging out at music festivals with their friends. sleeps naked.   arrow to the heart.  paint brushes.   probably has a tinder account.

ARES.   armed for battle.   wants to raise a dog with their significant other.   soft spot for children.  gives piggyback rides.   scarred body.   blood on their hands and face. willing to fight the world for the ones they love. fights against injustice.   warm hugs. well worn combat boots.   boxing gloves. bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. fist raised in protest.  ignites revolutions. fear is a prison.  more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think.   exhausted.   damaged goods.  force to be reckoned with.  red roses. curses under their breath.

ARTEMIS.    keen sense of a hunter.   freckles like constellations on their skin.   piercing eyes.   disheveled braid.  moonlight peeking through the shadows.   the calm of the forest at night.   lying on the grass and staring at the stars. mother doe and her fawn.   protecting their kin.   the moon shimmering on a still lake.   quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree.  running with wolves.  bonding while circled around a campfire.   not being much of a people person.   arrow hitting a target.   popping egos.   patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.

ATHENA.    discerning gaze.   unreadable face.   quiet museums.  owl perched on their finger.   armour that intimidates.   eye for architecture.   plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses.   studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid.   big fan of logic.   loves brain teasers.   ancient buildings.  sweaters in neutrals and cool colours.  hair done up.   can kill you with their brain.   heads to the library often to research. sharpened pencils.  abs that can cut steel.  stoic statues.  pottery classes.

DEMETER.     soil covered hands.  smile that can bloom flowers. skin loved by the sun.  being the mom friend. can lift you and your friends.  flowers kept in the pockets of overalls.   takes pride in their beautiful garden.   speaks to their plants.   leaves rustling in the wind. stalks of wheat.  picking fruit.   greenhouses. heart as strong as a mountain.   values simplicity. daisies dotted across a collarbone.  curls crowned with flowers.   folded pile of sweaters in warm hues.  pulling out fresh baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

DIONYSUS.     drunk shitposter.   on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second.  seductive smirks.   untamed curls. rich fabrics on dark skin.   sleek furred panthers.   theatre masks.   stage productions.   receiving a standing ovation.   rose caught between their teeth.   being the baby of the bunch.  wild parties that last from sundown to sunup.   creeping vines.   inspiring loyalty.  grand opera houses.   masquerade balls.   rolls of film.  shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine spilled floor.   pouring champagne into flutes.   lives for the applause.

HEPHAESTUS.    the calloused hands of someone who knows labor.   sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders.   steampunk goggles.   nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes.  ashes.   striking a match.   blueprints for future projects.   fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades.   wrestles with bitterness.  work boots have seen better years.   wrinkled plaid shirts.   iron melted in blazing fire.  huge jackets.   crafting masterpieces.   greased stained overalls.   fascination with robotics.  pain is fuel. stack of weaponry.   even their muscles have muscles.

HERA.    resting bitch face.  dressed to the nines.   cows grazing on a pasture.  cool rain.   loving and hating fiercely.   hand clutching a string of pearls.   large chandelier with glittering crystals.   plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims.   romance to realism. pictures of the sky while flying on a plane. files that under fuck it.   downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix.  like their selfie or you’re grounded.   knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man.   dark eyes that penetrate your soul.   marble and gold.

HERMES.     devil - may - care smile.   always up - to - date on the latest technology.  will steal your french fries.  does it for the vine.   shitposter.   puts googly eyes on everything.   meme hoarder.   long drives on the highway.   ma and pop diners.   spontaneous road trips.   folded maps.   fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop.   shooting hoops on the basketball court.  chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations.   goes jogging in the morning.   mixes redbull with coffee.   menace on april fool’s.   hoodies and sneakers.

POSEIDON.   storm with skin.  colorful coral reefs.   waves crashing against the shore.   stroking the soft fur of a cat. their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop.  tousled locks.   clothes smeared with paint.  owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more.   leather jackets. fondness for diy projects.  handwriting that flows across the page.   nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin.   velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams.   mood as ever - changing as the sea.   the roar of a motorcycle. compass with a spinning arrow.

HADES.     walking home alone in the early morning.   back alleys.   drinking alone in a graveyard. crippling loneliness hidden by sarcasm and cynicism.   crows picking a carcass.   untended dead flowers.  the black sheep of the family.   black coffee.   money can’t buy you happiness.  murder mystery dinner parties.   blood on your shirt collar.   dust illuminated by sunlight.  classical music.  dogs are better than people.   a quiet wrath.  shady business deals.  taking what you are owed.   paint it black.  seasonal affective disorder.   popping the suit collar.   grey rain on a cityscape.

ZEUS.     thunder in their heart. running on coffee.   flash of lightning.   unnatural charisma.   eloquence.   badass in a nice suit.   aficionado of history.  force of nature.   lennyface.  nightmare - filled nights.  proud arm around their lover’s waist.   high - rise buildings.  planes soaring through a cloudless sky. technician on the piano.  maintains order. strong handshake.   juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease.   expensive watch.

tagged by: stole from my old blog! tagging: honestly any1 who wants it.... theres like four ppl in this rpc im not tagging them im shy 

[iamtheempress]

Cold Blooded

A Dragon Ball Horror Fic {Part 11}

☆☆☆

Frieza’s slow. Patient. Methodical. With every step his little smile returns to his face as he sees the lab with which he made his first realization he felt something towards her. Its almost sentimental to him. 

From within the sterile lab the petrified scientist looked for anything. Anything at all to defend herself, then ran to the opposite door. The only one used to escape by the incinerator. So much for that. With the power out and backup generator fried the only thing working is this horrible white light blinking on and off in the lab…

Shes fucked. SHes fucked and she knows it.. No goodbye to Vegeta or anything. Her tomb is her laboratory. A place of creation. “Dammit...DAMMIT!” she shouts and her eyes meet with the vials of liquid that could potentially save her life... 

The corrosive material. The same which she used to pierce his membrane.

“Perfect…” She whispered out, only to be taken from thought fromthe door creaking open. 

“If theres anything that is perfect here, my dear Carlie it is you…” Hes more clear here, hes golden… this is his form he was talking about right. Its nightmarish and sleek.

“I hate to make things so short but i must inform you my dear… this is your last time on earth… from here i have a fleet at my command waiting for OUR arrival. You will never return to this wretched dirtball again for as long as you shall live.” He promises crossing the room with both arms locked prim and proper at the base of his spine he now easily towers over her, whereas before he was exactly her height.

Shes cornered. The position shes put herself in is foolish at best. Caught between Frieza and a concrete wall and a counter top with 50 vials of liquid.

“And if your moronic primate and his little friends find it necessary to hunt you down…” He raises his hand to her cheek and she flinches, his thumb grazes her bottom lip. Solid scarlet red eyes focused on her mouth and then her eyes as he leans closer. “Ill kill them one by one… and ill make sure that you watch. As my empress you will see that your former friends perish appropriately…” Carlie pipes up as Friezas now mere inches from her lips. 

“And i have no say in any of this… your just going to fucking take me..” She chokes out a cry, tears threatening to spill down her flush cheeks. “OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOO!! Carlie Carlie CARLIE!!! You never had a choice… you accepted me like a true friend… instead of cowering in fear of me… and you assume I WOULDNT take the opportunity to snatch you up??? Your a prize to be won… and one i wont let go to waste for the likes of that brutish little runt of a monkey…” He comments, absolutely preening with success and excitement. 

Carlie reached behind her and grabbed the rack of vials and brought it over her head into the crown of Friezas head, smashing it and pouring the corrosive material all over the Emperor and onto his flesh. The human woman bared her nails and threw any and all caution to the wind. 

“What in the-you…” Frieza backed up adn looked at his shoulders and didnt notice the human girl lunging at him with nails digging into his neck and dragging down harshly. Cutting clean into his flesh leaving a deep scratch like a wild cat.

“You made the worst decision, Carlie…” Frieza lulled grimacing. The scientist reared back and punched the emperor in the face square in the teeth. A tooth came out… he got some of the acid in his mouth too. Carlies minor victory was short lived. With blinding speed Frieza snatched the humans neck and gripped it. Forcing her to the ground. 

“Out of every smart thing you have done, Carlie. That was certainly the stupidest thing any human has ever done. So yes. A job well done is in order. You have infuriated the Emperor of the Universe to the point where i wlll not take pity upon you..” While choking under the golden tyrants grip she used all the strength she had inher not to pull his hand from her throat but to scratch and mangle his chest and any exposed area. With reckless and careless abandon. Shes mindlessly fighting back to achieve a hollow victory.

A very hollow victory. 

“F-Fuck you! Fuck you and y-your damned offer to be a fucking empress! Im Vege-AAAAH!” SHe screams loudly when the worst pain entered her stomach. A fucking death beam straight into her stomach and out her back. 

“You are a filthy mouthed little whore. You were coppulating with the primate, do you truly think id want my reproductive organs anywhere near your own when that monkey has slavved about inside of you…” Friezas fingers tighten more around her neck, her eyes wide and blood shot. 

“Tut tut now… I wanted to actually see this serum your so proud of in action.. Dont go dying on me n-” She reaches her arms up and scratches hellishly at his neck gasping for air that will never reach her pretty lips. He lifts her head abit and moves her head… Like its some sick fantasy to see someone teetering on the edge of life and death so callously.. 

Her eyes wept as she now kicked and scratched as the grinning tyrant… who bit his lip ensuring shes getting closer to death.. The blood she was laying on was her own but the blood that dripped on her from him was cold..

Friezas just as cold blooded as the life fuel that runs through his veins… “You feel that? That is because of you you wretch.. I offered you my blood for your hoidy toidy experiments. I know you done amazing things with it.. You can SEE me as you take your last breaths..OH THATS RIGHT!! I almost forgot.” He smiles and takes a needle and shoves it into her neck as the vision slipped and she was just about to cusp into the otherworld. 

With that very press of her serum coursing through her veins she understood how potent and strong it truly was… She felt alive. Rejuvenated. Her heart pounding and face dark blue from him squeezing the air from her lungs. “See? It worked! And you got to see it yourself… You should be sooooooo proud…” 

Carlie closed her mouth and looked right up at Frieza with petrified eyes. Shaking and feeling the life slip slowly from her body. “I will remember that when i see Vegeta again… that i was the last thing you ever seen… not that he would give a damn…” He sunk down and pressed his lips firm against the cold girls lips, molding them to hers, for several seconds Frieza felt euphoric… eyes closed and reveling in his first and her final kiss.

Before he could pull away he crushed her throat beneath his grip and felt her go limp beneath him. His lips smack as he pulls away from the body of the woman he wanted to call his empress… Frieza stared at her.. At her corpse.. At her hand and then at the ring.

Then up at the window to the viewing room.. HIs neck and chest was ruined.

Scratched and mangled to high hell. Carlies last stand displayed on his neck. Permanently.

The emperor knelt down and took the ring from her corpse and pushed hair from her face, and exited capsule corp out the back and into the night. Emotions very unclear in Friezas head, he was silent. Brooding. Depressed.

Several minutes pass. Capsule Corp was silent.. A dome with a lone corpse inside waiting to be found.

Bulma had returned with Goku and Vegeta who opened up Capsule Corp from its power shut down. Lights thrown back on and the search was on. Vegeta tore up everything. Bulma said nothing and allowed him to search for her. 

“Do you think Frieza escaped with her??” Goku questioned following Vegeta to the door to Carlies lab. Vegeta remained silent, his heart pounding in his ears. He stopped dead in his tracks upon finding the mangled door to the lower lab. 

“No…” The prince burst down the stairs to the most grizzly scene he had ever bared witness too. Despite destroying entire planets and killing millions in his time while working for Frieza.. 

No death had affected him so horribly then her own.

Bulma started weeping, as Vegeta lifted her in his arms. Kneeling in a pool of her own blood. It felt like an eternity before he spoke..

“Kakarot.. Bulma.. Get the Dragon Balls.”

☆☆☆

@dragonblobz @lilfriezatyrant @gallickingun @kamehamethot @gonuclear @memevember @msgreenverse @lizardhipsdontlie @thotful-writing @supremeleadershitlord​ @memevember​ @dragonball-hcs-or-sum-shit​

[anythingandeverything1d]

Moving On

Cheating Cheated

Tom smiled kissing you softly one more time before turning around to leave. He nodded his head to Harry as he walked past and waved from the car as he drove away. You took a deep breath, standing in the cold air. Harry stood a few feet away from you fuming. His eyes were glaring into yours and he looked almost as if his body was shaking. You waited for him to say something but he simply turned around, and walked back towards the sidewalk. You were suddenly terrified. Terrified that Harry was going to leave and never come back. That this was going to be the end of everything between the two of you. It was as if everything you loved was walking away in that exact moment and that made you feel like dying. You felt the energy drain from your body and you felt the anxiety replacing it. Your heart rate dropped and then rapidly sped up. “Harry” you reached out, grabbing the sleeve of his hoody. He looked at you, tears in his eyes and shook his head.

“Just stop.” He shook free of your grip and walked forward another step.

“Harry don't go please.” you cried reaching out again. Your face was now soaked with tears, snot dripping down your nose, and you were struggling to breathe normally. “Don't leave please.”

Harry looked at you with a pained expression. “Why wouldn't I leave...clearly youve moved on.”

“No-Harry its not- its not what it looks like.”

“You kissed him.”

“He kissed me. And that was our first date, it doesn't even count.” You needed him to stop and understand. You needed him to understand that you needed him.

“First date? So you are trying to move on though.”

“No, yes...Your sister set me up with him okay? She said a distraction would be good. I-I thought that I needed to move on to heal from everything with you.” You sat down on the step and buried your face in your hands, your body shaking from the sobs. 

Harry sighed giving in and sitting next to you. You shivered while trying to control yourself, the air was cold and your cheeks felt like they were freezing thanks to all the tears. Harry took off his jacket and handed it to you. You shook your head but he insisted so you pulled it on over your head, breathing in his warm sweet smell. It took you back to one of your favorite memories with Harry early on in your relationship.

*You were digging through Harry’s drawers trying to find something to wear. You had spilled food down the front of your shirt, leaving it stained and very wet. Harry had said to go up and pick whatever, and that was a big decision. You looked at almost every shirt he owned, along with jackets and hoodies. He had so many good options to choose from. You had decided on his baggy grey sweatshirt that said damn. You took off your shirt and bra, tossing them into the laundry and pulled the hoody on over you. It was far too big to fit you, it went almost to your knees but it was comfy, warm, and smelled just like him. You had wandered down the stairs and Harry’s eyes had been glued to you. “Damn.” you smiled and spun in a circle. He stood up twirling you again before pulling you into his arms. 

“How do I look?” you asked posing in the hoodie. 

“You look like you pull it off far more than I ever could.”

“Thats not true babe. You definitely wear it better.”

He bit his lip and shook his head, causing you to smile and blush. “(y/n) Im not going to lie, theres just something about this that turns me on..” He kissed your lips, biting your bottom lip and tugging. You moaned into the kiss and Harry’s hands wandered under the hoodie to wear your chest was. He trailed his fingers across your boobs with a smile. “Fuck baby..if I would've known how hot you were in my clothes, I would've given them to you so much much sooner.” He lifted you off the ground and carried you into bed, his lips not leaving yours, and the hoodie not leaving your body. Harry laid you down, tearing his shirt off and throwing it to the floor. His pants went next before tugging your shorts down you legs. You pulled him back to you, your lips brushing against his, his hands exploring under the hoodie. He had whispered “I love you” against the kiss, before*

“(y/n)..” Harry pulled you from your thoughts. You hugged yourself crying again and Harry opened his arms. You climbed into them, hugging him tight while you tried to calm yourself down. He buried his chin into your shoulder as you sat on his lap, tears still falling down your cheeks. He rubbed your back in small circles and eventually you were able to breathe again. You didn't dare move though, the fear of him leaving again was too much to handle. Unfortunately he moved, pushing you off his lap and to your feet before while standing up as well. You started crying again and he hugged you. “Shh its okay. I just thought we should probably move inside before you sick from the cold air..”

“You're not leaving?” you wiped your nose with his sleeve.

“Not unless you want me too.”

You were crying harder, “Don't go, please Harry don't leave.” He shook his head assuring you he wasn't leaving before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. Once inside he made you both cups of hot chocolate, wrapped you in a blanket and sat you on the couch. You quietly sipped the hot coco, staring at the floor motionless. Harry had sat next to you then moved away before awkwardly moving back to his original seat. You leaned back against him, tucking your face into the side of his arm. He moved, placing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into a sideways hug. You were finally breathing normal again and looked up at him. He was watching you carefully and quietly, not sure what to do or say either. You didn’t want anything to ruin the moment, and more importantly you didn't want him to leave. 

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, “uh..” Harry was stumbling with what to say, he ended up not saying anything and just shaking his head slightly while looking around. “Didn't someone clean the apartment earlier?” He looked at the pile of clothes, the food left in the kitchen, your things just scattered everywhere. You nodded your head and look at you confused. “Is this how they cleaned it?”

“No it was clean, I guess the day just got away from me and I didn't have time to reclean it...” Harry was shocked. You were not a messy person, like ever. You always kept things pristine and neatly organized. It drove Harry crazy while being endearing at the same time. Harry decided to drop that subject and with a loud sigh he pushed you slightly away so that he was turned facing you. You bit your lip unsure of what to say or do in response.

“(y/n) what is this? What are we doing?”

“I don't know...”

“If you really want to move on with- with Tom..”

“You know Tom?”

“Well he's Tom Holland, and you know I love superhero movies. He's Spiderman, kind of plays a big role in the Marvel world..I don't personally know him though.” You nodded, of course he would know who he was, most people probably would.  “But that's besides the point. If you think moving on with someone else is what you need-” 

The fear of losing Harry ate away at your stomach. “I can't lose you Harry.”

Harry sighed and grabbed your hand, placing a gentle kiss on your wrist. “Baby you'll never lose me, ever. If you want me around I’ll be here but-”

“But?”

“But I think maybe we should just be friends?”

“Friends? You want to be just friends?”

“Well no, but look..(y/n) you need time to fully forgive me. Clearly if youre going out on dates a part of you still doesn't want to be with me. I want all of you, and I want all of you to want to be with me..”

You didn't say anything, you were trying to imagine what being just friends with Harry looked like. You were never just friends, friends with benefits yes, but not just friends. You bit down on your lip again, shaking your head. “I don't know Harry..”

“Baby we can make being friends work okay? I need you in my life just as much as you want me in yours. But I- I want you to be ready to fully forgive me. Are you ready to do that now?”

You shook your head. You knew as much as you wanted Harry, you didn't want him. You knew that you wanted to forgive him but also weren't ready and you knew that there was no way you could give Harry everything he wanted right now from a relationship. You sighed and looked down, tears in your eyes. You didnt like the decision but you knew it was right. You let Harry pull you onto his lap and you let yourself sit there for a few minutes snuggling before getting up awkwardly. “I think-I think I need to go to bed..”

Harry stood up sadly and looked at the floor nodding. “I should probably be going home too..” You nodded and he walked over pulling you into a tight hug. You clung to him for life, breathing slowly and holding back tears. “Uh friends do hug right?” he stepped back a little. 

“Yeah, friends hug...” he smiled and hugged you again, placing a warm kiss on the top of your head, just the way you liked.

“Well...friend....I’ll uh, I’ll talk to you later?” he said it like a question and you smiled. 

“Yeah, we’ll talk later.” He smiled back walking to the door. “Harry wait!” you nearly shouted at him. “Your hoodie..” You were still in his hoodie, and were kind of reluctantly wanting to take it off. 

“Keep it, looks better on you anyways.” He grinned before walking out and closing the door behind him. You gripped the sleeves of the hoodie and smiled. Maybe this whole thing would work after all. 

A few weeks had gone by since you and Harry had the “friends only” talk. You had continued to go out with Tom, while attempting to be Harry’s friend. You thought it was getting easier....but then your mind flashed back to the other night when Harry had come over for dinner. The two of you had decided to make Mac and cheese, but not boxed Mac and cheese, homemade Mac and cheese. Somehow, in the process of talking about adding cheeses to the pot, you had ended up locked in an embrace, your butt on the counter, hands in his hair, his hands on your waist, your foreheads leaning against each others ....you shook your head. No, being friends with Harry was definitely working. “Knock knock.” Harry’s voice called into the room.

“Who's there?” you immediately responded without looking up at him. You were already accustomed to his terrible knock knock jokes and weren't surprise he was starting the conversation off with one.

“Me, silly.” Harry said with a smile.

“Oh.” you said a little confused.

“I mean I can go if youre not happy I’m here...”

“No, that's not what I meant. I just thought you were telling a joke not announcing your presence.” Harry laughed and you smiled, looking up at him.

“I can tell you a joke if you want-”

“No, that's okay really.” you laughed. You stood up and hugged him tightly, his arms wrapping around your body. “Whatcha up to?”

“Nothing, I was hoping we could hang out again?” You bit your lip and looked down. Harry reading the situation also added, “I mean if you have plans..”

“I mean...Tom was going to come over and hang out, but you two could hang out together....” you suggested. Harry looked upset and torn.

“Uh, I think I’ll pass...I’ll just go to Gemma’s and see what's she's up to instead.” Harry hugged you one more time before walking out the door and you sat down on the couch slightly disappointed he was leaving. Part of you wanted to cancel on Tom but you knew that the day wouldn't be as fun if Harry was thinking of what you would have been doing had he come. Every time you and Harry had hung out, you felt yourself falling more and more. It was getting to the point where you stayed up all night just texting him and laughing at jokes he told. You also felt a little piece of you leave every time he walked out the door. You weren't really sure if that's how friendships were supposed to feel with guys you had once dated..

“Hey love.” Tom smiled while walking into the room. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” you said your face burning red and you getting up to hug him. Hugging Tom was different as well. He was much smaller than Harry, both physically and height wise. He also smelled different. Harry smelled like a masculine vanilla, Tom smelled like fruit. 

“Well, I brought some movies to watch today if you wanted?” “Yeah, that's great. What movies?”

“Well I figured its finally time for you to watch SpiderMan.” You laughed and shook your head. Is it now? He nodded, settling on the couch and patting the seat beside him. You sat next to him as he set up the movie. You couldn't help compare the two situations. Cuddling with Harry was the warmest thing ever. The way he held onto you, played with your hair or fingers, the way his chest moved when he laughed, the dimples when he looked at you at a cute part, how he hummed to the music in the movie, how he knocked your feet off the table just so you would have to lay them on top of his, everything just seemed to fit perfectly together. With Tom, it was an awkward kind of cuddle. He didn't know where to put his hands, how to hold you properly, and he was a little bony so it wasn't the most comfortable thing to lay against him. 

Throughout the movie, Tom would tell stories about filming that scene and all the craziness that went into it. It was nice, it just wasnt helping you watch the movie for what it was. About halfway through there was a knock at your door, you stood up in the middle of Toms story about hanging upside while being tied to a crane. You opened the door and there stood Harry, a nervous smile on his face. “Uh mind if I join?” he asked shifting his feet around on the floor. You smiled and jumped onto him with a hug. He seemed a little surprised but hugged you tightly nonetheless. You led him into the living room with a smile.

“Look who decided to join movie night.”

“Ah Harry, good to see you mate. Hope you like SpiderMan.” Tom stood up shaking his hand.

“I love it.” Harry answered, settling onto the other end of the couch. Tom also sat down back in his seat, and you awkwardly sat in the middle. Your couch wasnt small but it definitely felt small sitting in the middle of Harry and Tom. You knew you needed to pick a side to lean. Your body wanted to lean towards Harry, but your mind said to lean towards Tom. You settled with neither. You crossed your arms across your chest, leaned back with your feet on the table in front of you, very aware of the gestures each guy was making towards you. Tom had his hand awkwardly up next to yours. Harry’s feet kept edging towards yours and he had a smart ass grin on his face. You kept your eyes on the tv the rest of the movie. When it finished, Tom’s phone rang and he quickly excused himself from the room to answer it. Harry took that as his opportunity. He knocked your feet to floor with an unapologetic smile. “Oh sorry, were your feet comfortable there?”

You shook your head with a smile, knocking his feet off to the side. He took that as an invitation to continue his games. He knocked your feet over, scooting closer to your body. You knocked his feet off again in response. Harry’s next move surprised you. Instead of knocking your feet off, he pushed you gently over on the couch with a “what are you going to do about it look”. You laughed and grabbed him, pulling him with you as the two of you tumbled off the couch and onto the floor. Harry laughed hard, his body now laying over yours, your back on the floor and his arms at the sides of your head keeping him up so he didn't squish you with his weight. You laughed in response and then froze. He was staring at you, you were staring at his lips. He leaned in a little more, and you continued staring. He moved down a little more and you couldn't hold it back anymore. You put your lips to his, connecting with him like a magnet. He pressed harder into you, laying down a little more, deepening the kiss. He nibbled at your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to swirl around yours. After a minute you were both out of breath and confused. Harry rolled off you and onto his back. You were both breathing hard, not looking at each other. Harry’s hand grabbed your fingers and you gripped his hand. After another minute you sat up very confused and guilty. Tom came back in and announced he had to run to an emergency meeting. He pressed a kiss to your cheek before running out the door with a goodbye. Harry sat up and looked at you, you boldly returned the gaze. “Uh” you started but he shook his head.

“I should get going..”

“Yeah maybe that's, maybe that's a good decision..” He nodded standing up, reaching his hands down and pulling you to his feet next to him. You walked him to the door, and he stood there not opening it. He was staring at your lips again. You looked up catching his eyes and he went for it. He grabbed your hand and pulled you into him. He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. His lips were locked on yours, your head was spinning yet you felt it was clearer than it had been in weeks. He turned and pressed your back into the front door. Your fingers were tangled in his hair when you took it a step farther. You gently bit down on his lip, pulling back and looking at him. He groaned and carried you into the bedroom, dropping you gently onto the edge of the bed. Harry kicked off his shoes, he went for the pants as well, but you pulled him to you, his body between your legs his lips on yours. He pulled the t-shirt over you head and kissed down your neck while unclipping your bra and tossing it to the floor. You sucked in a breath as his tongue played around the tender skin of your chest. You leaned into him, pulling his shirt over his head. His fingers trailed their way down your stomach to your hips, he tugged at the sweatpants waist band and slipped his hands underneath them. Your head fell into his, his lips playing games with yours. His fingers tugged at the lace on your panties, your breath catching. You bit down on his already swollen lip and he groaned falling into you and pushing your back onto the bed. “Harry..” you groaned trying to catch your breath. You could feel the bulge in his pants pressing into you and you gripped the bare skin on his back, your nails falling down his back.

“(y/n)” Harry breathed down your neck as you pulled his lips to yours. “If you want me to stop-”

“Dont stop” you mumbled kissing him again. You weren't thinking straight, you weren't really thinking at all. All you knew is that you wanted Harry. He dropped his pants and climbed into the bed with you, tugging your pants and panties off. He gripped your hands in his, his lips against yours. Harry moved closer to you, you could feel his length press against your body and your breath stopped. “Harry” you whined as he teased you, kissing his way down your body, your back arching the lower he got. “Stop teasing.”

He breathily laughed, returning his lips to yours and pressing his length into you. Harry rocked his hips against yours, you groaning and holding onto him tightly. Harry moved faster and groaned dropping his head to your chest. “Im close, Im going to need to pull-”

“Just do it-” you breathed trying to rub your hips against his. Harry pushed deeper in and froze, letting go. He breathed heavily against your lips and you kissed them slowly. Harry slowly pulled out, collapsing onto his back. He reached his arm out and pulled you against his chest. You were both catching your breath when youre phone rang. Gemmas name flashed across the screen and you jumped up, throwing a shirt off your floor on and answering. “Hey Gem.”

“Why are you out of breath?” she asked laughing.

“Uh just ran up the stairs..” you lied looking at Harry who raised an eyebrow in your direction.

“Well okay. Is Harry still over there by chance? I want him to meet Mical while he's here but he's not answering his phone and I know he went over to hang out with you and Tom..”

“Yeah, yeah Harry’s here. Here you can talk to him.” you handed him the phone and breathed out. Looking around for your pants. 

“What?” Harry asked still catching his breath.

“Are you out of breath too?” Gemma asked confused. “Wait- are there even stairs to run up-”

“Gemma what do you want.” Harry asked and you gave him a warning look.

“I want you to come meet Mical.”

“I don't want to.”

“Harry.”

“Gemma.”

“I want you to meet Mical and I want you to meet him today.”

“But-”

“No buts theres no excuse.”

“Ugh.”

“Great. I’ll see you soon. I love you!” She said before hanging up. Harry tossed you his phone and you laughed. “Shut up.”

“Hes a nice guy Harry.”

“Yeah I’m sure.” You rolled your eyes and tossed him his shirt. 

“I think you’ll like him.” 

“Youre coming with me.”

“What? No-”

“Oh yeah. You’ve already met him and Im going to need my gi- my friend to help me stay calm because I know I’m not going to like him. So get dressed because you can't wear my clothes to her house.” He smirked and added, “even though you definitely pull off the look.” You rolled your eyes and groaned knowing very well you needed to go and help him through. He laughed knowing he won. “I kind of like the friend card.”

---

So I have one more part planned for this series! I hope you are all enjoying it! What do you think is going to happen?

xoxo

[dysfunctionalnerd]

I was wondering ... how would Randall react to Evil! Layton? or Monocle! Layton(by the way your drawings are amazing!)

ahhh thank u so much!! that means so much to me ;u; oh my GOSH MONACLE LAYTON!!! i havent thought about him organically in too long sksksks

well so ok if i had to make layton evil at any point in time, the way id do it would be after unwound future. it would be about 2 years after he found randall, but in this scenario he never worked up the courage to call randall or go back and visit after he left Monte D'or so abrubtly, which means losing that friendship was already weighing on his heart. so then after UF, losing claire and luke in the span of the same week... its too much for him. Crying in his room one night, he says "so this is it then? am i destined to always lose the people i love? i will simply never love again." and he snaps. he gets cold and distant, doesnt allow the kindness of others to reach him. all he wants now is vengance, and this man has been wronged by soooooo many people.

The only person still living with him is flora at this point. at first she lets things slide. things like seeing hersh withdraw into his study for too long, or drink too late into the night. but then she notices he stays in his room for days at a time, clearly working on something, but he gets so rude when asked about what. shes always met with answers like "its none of your concern" or "dont ask questions you're not prepared to hear the answer to", until one day she really puts her foot down. Demands to know whats going on. Shes so worried. But hershel screams at her to go away. an ugly, terrible yelling nobody deserves. and its so cold she just,, runs away crying. she cant think of anybody to reach out for help. she doesnt know anybody, she was never allowed to go out and make friends.

until she remembers the stories luke told her about the man they saved in Monte D'or, and she remembers how softly hershel would smile the precious few times he mentioned he name randall.

so she pulls up a phone book and looks up a Randall Ascot. Its not hard considering he owns an entire fucking town. shes crying and scared and alone, and when randall picks up the phone, he is of course concerned. hes never met this girl, but nobody should by crying this much, and then his heart breaks when he realizes its hershel who did this. He was always hurt by how hershel never said goodbye, and never called again to rekindle their friendship. at first he doesn't want to come over, but flora begs him.

"please, randall, you have to help. I know i hardly know you but... nobody else can reach him, i just know it".

so he grabs the nearest train. tells flora take take it easy at a bougie hotel for a night while he makes the trip over, pays for everything ofc. the two meet up. randall falls in love with this girl in .5 seconds (yknow in that "ive only met this girl for 10 minutes but if anything were to happen to her id kill everyone in this room and then myself" kind of way). They decide to just go to hershels flat and knock. he doesnt answer. they knock again. nothing. randall gets worried. he breaks down the door, shouts for hershel. Nobodys there. the place is empty. they enter hershels study to make sure, but what they find horrifies them. a GIANT charlie kelly style board with a bunch of pictures of different people, mostly people connected to bill hawks, and red lines connecting them stand before the two, and they both know in their gut its a hit list of some kind.

so they run to parliment or whatever building it is those goverment people all stay in, hoping its not too late, hope maybe their suspicions arent true. Theyre horrified when they reach the front steps and theres no guards or anything. sirens are blaring. they run down the halls. injured soldier's and police are telling them to turn back, its not worth it, this man is unstoppable.

"please dont let it be hershel, please dont let it be hershel."

flora stops when they reach the big door. she looks up at randall, crying. "im sorry... but i cant go in. i dont want to face him like this."

randall hugs her, reassures her. tells her its ok to wait by the entrance, that everything will be ok.

Flora rushes off, and randall takes a deep breath. He opens the door where bill hawks office is supposed to be. Randalls heart sinks. in the big chair is hershel, a sword covered in red, and tied to chains too close to the fire place is a beat up bill hawks.

hershel greets him coldly, like strangers.

"ah hello there. im sorry, but the prime minister cannot assist you today. please come back later."

"hershel, what are you doing??? that sword.... have you??"

"killed someone? no..." he hops off his chair and points his sword to bill hawks, far too close to the neck. "no not yet. but if youd like, you can join me for the first one."

Randall picks up a pipe or something close to him. "i cant let you do this hershel... i know youre better than this."

"ah, but you see, thats the thing." his blade lightly touches bills neck. "i could be, but then... whats the point?" then he scoffs, and pulls his sword away, pointing it towards randall in a battle stance. "never mind, you could never understand."

and he charges. AND THE EPIC SWORD FIGHT BETWEEN HERSHEL AND RANDALL THAT WE WERE ROBBED OF COMENCES! Randall, between parrys, is in total disbelief. "Hershel, stop it! i know how youre feeling, but this isnt the solution! youre tired, and scared, and unbelievably hurt. youre in so much pain... this isn't going to end that pain!"

clink, parry

"you couldnt possibly know what im feeling. ive lost everyone. but its no matter."

for a moment it looks like hershel is about to pin randall down, but he swoops away at the last minute.

"No, please hershel, you cant think like that!! youre not alone!! not anymore!! You didnt give up on the masked gentleman... let me return the favor!"

hershel gasps at this, and hesitates. its enough for randall to knock hershels sword out of his hands, and pin him to the ground. Hershel is afraid, his eyes are wide.

"r-randall, stop it!! leave me alone!"

"no!" randall throws the pipe he fought with aside. "not until you make things right!" he starts crying, his tears spill on hershels shirt. "not until i get my best friend back..."

hershel can't take it anymore. He screams, and starts crying uncontrollably. that ugly crying you reserve for your worst moments, and randall softens his grip on hersh, changes it so hes hugging his friend. And hershel just cries and cries and cries.

"i... i just dont want to live like this anymore..." he sobs.

"hershel.... oh hershel, im so, so sorry."

and they continue to cry. eventually randall asks what happened, how it got to this. hershel explains the events of the last few years. how luke left. how bill hawks sent men to beat him to an inch of his life 8 years ago, so really this is just him returning the favor. they talk it out.

"hershel... you owe flora an apology"

and hershel starts crying even more. "oh no, how could i do this to her?? im a monster..."

"nonsense! shes just worried about you, we all just want you to be ok. give her time, you two will be ok."

so slowly, randall convinces hershel to take his hand and walk out before some real irreverasble damage is done. they dont untie bill tho :) hershel comes face to face with flora at the entrance. starts stuttering some words, but jever gets around to saying anything bc flora hugs hershel so tightly, and cries into his chest. "professor i was so worried..."

"i.... im so sorry...."

and thats it!! the police dont do anything bc i dont believe in them, hawks eventually gets voted out. they all go home and randall decides to stay with hershel until he find a therapist. then decides to stay with him until he starts smiling again, then because i mean whos gonna help out with flora?? and then bc honestly hershel, this place is a mess! and then,,,,, well,,,,,, yknow,, 👀👀

[cheshiresense]

for your SP au if u have time, how about a scene with injured/close to death!ichigo and kisuke losing it big time? idk i just feel like in this universe where even tho they're surrounded by people they know, theres also a sense of them only having each other, and after everything theyve been thru, one of them facing the possibility of losing the other could be rly trauamtizing.

Uhhhh… okay. Wow, alright, let’s see…

This takes place sometime far into the future. Well, not that far but like at least a couple years after the convo with Kaien and Shinji I guess?

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Later, Kisuke would be able to tell you exactly what happened. His mind automatically breaks down an attack blow by blow, every strength and weakness catalogued just in case he would need to counter it in another fight, because that’s just how his brain works, and for once he wishes it wasn’t.

He’ll have nightmares about it for years to come.

One moment, they’re scattered across the skies of Soul Society, either fending off the hoards of Hollows Aizen has released into the heart of Seireitei or confronting Aizen himself, and the next, Kisuke loses track of the traitor for a split second, too many illusions overlapping each other and too many useless bodies in the air who haven’t the first idea how to shake off Aizen’s Shikai but insisted on fighting anyway because Yamamoto ordered all Shinigami Ninth Seat and up into battle.

He feels more than sees what happens next, at the very edge of his peripheral vision. He and Ichigo have split up, both of them still in the same piece of battlefield but no longer covering each other’s backs because they’re too busy trying to simultaneously make sure Aizen doesn’t gut one of their colleagues or friends and launch an attack that’ll actually stick at Aizen himself at the same time. Of everyone here, Ichigo and Kisuke are the only ones who’ve gone toe to toe with Aizen, which was a difficult enough task without throwing in the dozen or so handicaps around them.

One moment, Aizen is smirking, monologuing, boasting about everything Kisuke’s long since learned to tune out. The next, the Fifth Seat from the Ninth Division rushes him like an idiot, and as if on cue, half the other Shinigami also surge forward as if they think Aizen has left any openings for them to get a hit in. It distracts everyone there, and Kisuke mentally curses when more than one person obscures his line of sight. He shifts, steps to the side, trying to keep all his senses honed on Aizen, but a breath and a blink later, the man has disappeared, and Kisuke is turning before he’s even consciously aware of doing it, his gaze cutting through the throng of Shinigami around him, searching frantically for-

Aizen doesn’t attack Ichigo. Of course he doesn’t. But Fujiwara Asuka is there, and to her credit, whatever illusion Aizen weaves around her doesn’t make her hesitate from bringing her Zanpakutou up to block a strike Kisuke can’t see, nor does it stop her from following through, just as Ichigo taught her. She remains on the defensive, wary of attacking and hurting a comrade, but she doesn’t stay in one place, deflecting whatever sword she sees and then throwing herself to one side, obviously trying to get clear.

It’s just not enough, because she throws herself to the left, and Aizen materializes there to meet her, Kyoka Suigetsu thrusting forward and-

Kisuke knows what will happen before it even happens. Somehow, the sound of a Kidou spell eating through flesh echoes loudly even with people shouting all around him and the shrieks of Hollows in the distance.

These are the things Kisuke notices in a single snapshot of time: Fujiwara’s wide, distraught eyes; the smug, satisfied smile on Aizen’s face like he expected nothing less; and the shock-tinted pain splashed across Ichigo’s features as he shoves Fujiwara to the side with one hand and deflects Kyouka Suigetsu with Zangetsu, only for Aizen to bring his other hand around, the light of a Raikouhou already glowing in his palm before he releases it straight into Ichigo’s abdomen, a sizzling ball of yellow lightning that slams through one side and out the other and leaves the stink of burning flesh behind.

Ichigo staggers, chokes, wobbles in the air like someone’s cute first attempt at Shunpo, and for a long frozen second, Kisuke tries to draw breath and can’t seem to find the lungs for it.

Then Fujiwara screams Ichigo’s name, and it’s as if everything fast-forwards again, flooding the area with noise and colour all at once.

Kisuke covers the distance between them in one desperate flash-step. The incomplete Espada that gets in his way is bisected right through the middle, Benihime singing through the air like a cacophony of screaming symbols, and the nameless Arrancar doesn’t even slow Kisuke down. He barrels into Ichigo, catching his lover just as he begins to fall. He barely notices Kyouraku covering his retreat, appearing a half-beat behind him, dual swords swinging at Aizen to force him back, his eyes a hard slate grey as he stares down the traitorous would-be overlord.

Instead, Kisuke’s already trying to calculate the damage before they’ve even reached the ground - front torn open, shattered ribs, not as much blood as there is charred flesh, but Kisuke can see his insides anyway and it’s a mess of hemmorhaging viscera.

He lands on a rooftop, out of the way of any immediate enemy fire, and sets Ichigo down as gently as he can. Even then, Ichigo convulses and then coughs, spilling slick crimson over his bottom lip, and the spasms that wrack him shifts his broken ribs in ways that can’t be good for his continued survival.

“Ichigo, it’s going to be alright, just try to hold still-”

Ichigo makes a rough sound that’s half-laugh, half-splutter of pain, and then he coughs again, unending and terrible, and Kisuke can see the way blood is bubbling up and around the hand Ichigo’s instinctively braced against his front.

Fuck. Fuck.

Kisuke is usually calmer than this. He prides himself on remaining calm at all times, no matter how dire the situation. But right now, as he pins Ichigo down with one hand to Ichigo’s shoulder to prevent him from doing more harm to himself while his other flickers green in an attempt to start healing the worst of the damage, he can’t seem to stop the way either of them are shaking. There’s a funny roaring noise in his ears, and every time he blinks, all he can see is Ichigo lying too still, Ichigo’s face twisted up in agony, Ichigo dead and gone and leaving him behind, and he can’t-

A hand appears in his line of sight, and he’s not even holding his Zanpakutou anymore, having dropped it beside him the moment he landed, but Benihime’s still unsealed, and her signature reiatsu snaps out like the fangs of a beast and nearly takes the limb off, hand and arm and all. Whoever it belongs to swears and snatches it back just in the nick of time. Kisuke doesn’t even look up, too busy staunching blood flow and holding the ribcage together and making sure nothing slices into a lung and-

Fuck. Fuck. There’s just so much damage, and at the end of the day, Kisuke’s no master healer-

“Urahara-taichou, you will get a hold of yourself.” A female voice calls, not quite raised but sharp enough to cut through the haze of terror clouding his mind. Coupled with the hand that suddenly finds his, slippery with more blood but with enough coordination to squeeze down hard and anchor him back to the present, Kisuke suck in a breath, then another, then another, until he’s almost dizzy with it.

He looks at Ichigo first, and while his face is white and creased with pain, he meets Kisuke’s gaze steadily enough, and it’s enough for Kisuke to at least shove aside the panic and think.

He looks up next, right into the looming figure of Unohana, waiting for him to shuffle aside so she can tend to Ichigo. She’s already casting a critical eye over Ichigo’s injuries, and Kisuke should, he should move over right now because on a regular day, if Kisuke could have his pick of healers, Unohana would be at the top of the list. There is literally no one better for the job, and he should be thanking the Soul King that she was even nearby enough for someone to fetch her here so quickly.

But even just the thought of passing Ichigo’s wellbeing to anyone makes him want to lash out.

Benihime, Kisuke thinks for one wild moment. Benihime could probably fix him. Even if it means a patchwork of scars inside and out by the end-

She’s never had to restructure so many broken pieces of bone before though, never had to work with half the internal organs fried and nerve endings destroyed by such a close-range, point-blank electric explosion. What if she can’t-

Benihime stirs at the back of his mind, all affronted pride and snarling wrath with a seething sort of fear underneath. And yet-

He looks at Ichigo. Ichigo, eyes at half-mast and dazed now, Ichigo who is depending on him to make the best choice for him. And-

And that’s enough. Barely, but enough.

He rounds on Unohana again, and if he looks a little manic and more than a little mad, no one calls him out on it.

“If he dies under your care,” He bites out in a voice even he almost doesn’t recognize, soft and flat and no less vicious for either. “The Fourth Division will require a new captain by the end of the day.”

There are scandalized gasps from more than one person, and Yoruichi hisses a warning, “Kisuke!”

Only Unohana remains entirely unperturbed, looking back calmly even as she inclines her head in a nod. “I understand.”

Kisuke watches her for a moment longer, weighing her answer, then he turns back to Ichigo. The stasis spell he resorted to earlier begins fading as he lets it go, and he takes those few precious seconds to reach up to cup Ichigo’s face in his hands instead, bending low until the brim of his hat brushes Ichigo’s forehead. “Ichigo, you listen to me.”

Eyelashes flutter like it’s a struggle for Ichigo to keep them open, but he opens them anyway, and even though it takes a few blinks, his eyes are clear and focused when they look at Kisuke, and Kisuke holds that gaze.

“You will live. Do you know why?” His fingers curl into Ichigo’s hair, probably gripping harder than he should, digging bruises Ichigo can’t afford into his skin, but he needs this, needs his promise, needs his word. “Because if you die, you know perfectly well I will follow you and I will find you, no matter how many reincarnation cycles I’ll have to tear apart, even if that means razing the Soul King and his whole palace to the ground. So you will live because I will set the universe on fire if I lose you, and you have too much of a saviour complex to let that happen.”

There’s a hush all around him, the kind that comes from a stunned, maybe even appalled, sort of disbelief.

Kisuke ignores them. None of them matter right now.

(And if they don’t believe him, don’t believe he’s capable of it or don’t believe he really would do it, then the joke’s on them.)

All his attention remains on Ichigo, who blinks at him once, twice, and then even manages a hoarse chuckle as a bloodstained hand comes up to tangle in Kisuke’s own hair, as possessive as Kisuke at his worst and not at all ashamed to show it.

(Yoruichi knows what people say about Kisuke, both within and outside of the Onmitsukidou, with admiration or with contempt. But Kisuke’s problem has never been an inability to love. His problem has always been that he loves very, very few, and of those he does love, he loves with a world-burning passion that halts for no one and nothing and consumes everything in its path if allowed to run its course.

It makes her wonder, sometimes, whether Shiba Ichigo is very brave or just very oblivious.

Or maybe he’s like Kisuke, loving with a ferocity that’s equally devastating and unstoppable, and isn’t that a terrifying thought?)

Ichigo swallows, and his reiatsu surges with the solid resolve shining in his eyes, not even slightly dimmed, even now. Or perhaps especially now.

“You’re such a drama queen, Kisuke,” Ichigo rasps out, but his grin is all teeth, stained with blood but bold and bright and brilliant. “Go kick his ass. I’ll be right behind you.”

Kisuke gives himself another second, curled over Ichigo like he could protect him this way, clutching at him like he’s Kisuke’s last lifeline.

(He is. He has been for so long now.)

Then he exhales and lets go. He presses a kiss to Ichigo’s temple and then eases back and clambers to his feet, retrieving Benihime on his way up. “I’ll buy you time. Catch up when you can.”

Ichigo nods, and Kisuke steps away, finally letting Unohana take his place. He starts walking, and the Shinigami in his way automatically part for him. There’s Kaien, whom Kisuke vaguely recalls as the one who tried to get his attention and almost paid for it with his hand.

Kisuke might apologize later.

Then there’s Yoruichi with Suì-Fēng at her side, Rose and Love look like they’ve just arrived, and Matsumoto stands a few feet away, her arm around Fujiwara’s shoulders. Hachigen is farthest away, hands pressed together and a yellow barrier erected around them. A handful of battered-looking seated officers Kisuke never bothered remembering the names of complete the ensemble, and up above, Kyouraku and Lisa are keeping Aizen at sword-point.

Or at least Aizen is allowing them to keep him at sword-point. It’s about time Kisuke changes that.

He strides forward. Three feet and he’s shrugged out of his captain’s haori. Five feet and he’s dropped it behind him. Seven feet and his hat follows. He’s in full Shinigami garb today, all black uniform and flat sandals meant for fast and easy movement.

“Open it,” He orders in placid tones as he approaches the barrier, and Hachigen wastes no time releasing one wall of the barrier.

The moment Kisuke steps out and looks up, Aizen glances down and smiles like he’s been waiting for this.

“Urahara Kisuke,” He calls out with his trademark mockery lilting each syllable. “You should keep a closer eye on your-”

Kisuke disappears from the ground and reappears behind Aizen, Benihime angled for the man’s heart. Aizen dodges, but he also has to stop talking, and he doesn’t see the glint of silver in Kisuke’s other hand before the dagger sinks to the hilt in the soft flesh just above Aizen’s hip.

“Hadou #11,” Kisuke intones as Aizen’s smile thins. “Tsuzuri Raiden.”

An electric current sparks and crackles down the hilt just as Aizen wrenches himself off the blade and Shunpos away to safety.

He’s still smiling when Kisuke looks over. The injury is already healing with the power of the Hogyoku even as blood drips from the dagger in Kisuke’s hand, and yet something uneasy lurks in the tightness around his eyes, like he wasn’t expecting Kisuke to attack him so ruthlessly.

Kisuke hasn’t the faintest idea why. Everybody knows which military organization groomed him after all.

Ah well. He’ll learn.

Kisuke tosses the blade aside, then twists his fingers together, activating the seal he planted underneath the Tsuzuri Raiden just as he recites, “Bakudou #61, Rikujoukourou,” and six beams of light bursts from the newly healed wound in Aizen’s side, enveloping him in a brief burst of yellow before settling evenly around his midsection and paralyzing him to the spot.

Aizen looks momentarily surprised before his usual confidence slides back into place. “Do you think such a simple Bakudou can capture me?”

Kisuke huffs out a breath that’s barely a shadow of his usual laugh. “Capture you? I don’t want to capture you, Aizen-san.”

He brings Benihime up with a deliberate sort of careless grace, and this time, for the first time in this time, when he looks at Aizen Sousuke, the Shinigami is no longer smiling. Maybe he finally sees the rage in Kisuke’s eyes, pulsing with every breath he takes and every beat of his heart.

“I just need you to stay still for a bit,” Kisuke explains lightly, and behind him, her reiatsu jolting with an abrupt sort of urgency, he can hear Yoruichi yell for Kyouraku and Lisa to get back, right now.

“Bankai,” Kisuke commands, and distantly he hears the triumphant laughter of his Benihime’s bloodlust. She laughs, and he smiles. “Kannonbiraki Benihime Aratame.”

[richard-the-boy-wonder-blog]

Give a Little Bit.

Pairing: none.

Author: JJM

Rating: none

Summary: Bill has done everything in his power to break his studder, from tongue twisters, to speech impediment classes and nothing has helped. Frustrated and tired of being mocked after giving a fairly bad speech in class his friends decide to take him for a joy ride.

Bill threw the heavy wooden door to his social studies class open and sprinted down the hallway, laughter echoed behind him fading away till all he heard was his ragged breath and the squeak of his converse on the tile floor. He felt hot tears streak down his cheeks as he bounded down the staires and through the english wing of the school, he hiccups back a sob and rounds another corner. He slid to the floor tucking his knees into his chest, letting his tears soak into the knees of his jeans. He was use to his peers making fun of his studder, use to being called names for it, and expected it every single day he came to school. But to have a teacher shame you about it in front of your class, thats different.

He wrapped his arms tightly behind his head as memories from just moments before took complete control of his thoughts.

"Would you PLEASE, speak more clearly?"

"If you cant get through your presentation Bill youre going to have to sit down."

"Thank you for wasting our time."

Bill sobbed aloud now no longer able to keep how he felt in check, why couldn't people be more understanding? Why could they cut him some slack? Why couldnt people have more patience with him? Hes trying his best

He jumped when he felt someone gently touch his shoulder, abruptly looking up face stained with snot and tears.

"Hey you okay big Bill?" Richie asked Stan and Mike standing close behind him, he shook his head feeling discouraged about his speech after what happened.

"Whats going on?" Stan asked concern growing evident on the boys face as he sat down next to Bill on the floor; follow suit with Richie and Mike.

Bill shook his head again face twisting into a pained expression, tears squeezed past his closed eyes as he was pulled into Stans embrace.

"We cant help you unless you speak up Billy" Richie commented rubbing the others back softly, Bill looked to Mike and Richie both eagerly waiting for him to spill. He turned and looked up to Stan who just nodded a little, he sighed and wiped his face with his sleeve telling them all about his oral presentation and what the teacher had to say about it.

"I-im so f-f-fucking sick o-of this! I-i did years! Y-YEARS of therapy t-t-to f-fix it a-and its just n-n-n-" he bite his lip hard not able to get his final words out, he shook with anger face growing red. "FUCK!" he yelled making all his friends jump back, "i-i just w-w-want to b-be normal!"

"Nope" Richie said standing up taking Bill's hands in his making him stand too, he wrapped an arm around Bills lower back and started leading them to the front doors of the school. "I know exactly what will help in a situation like this" Richie beamed up at Bill pushing the titanium door to outside open, "Richie school isnt out for another 2 hours" Stan said from the door watching his friends head for the parking lot.

"Cant handle the heat get your ass out the kitchen" Richie said throwing a smile over his shoulder at the other.

"Were on a mission" Richie finished opening the passenger door to his truck for Bill, Stan rolled his eyes knowing exactly what that meant.

And thats how all 7 losers found themselves crammed into Richies 5 seat pick up, skipping class wasnt put of the ordinary for them but skipping class to driving out to the mountains was literally something they never did.

"I swear to god if the school calls my mom and tells her i was gone" Eddie said from his seat in Beverlys lap.

"Oh well be fine Eddie spaghetti" Richie said with a wide smile, gripping the leather of the steering wheel alittle.

"You think im kidding? Do you want a criminal record Richie? Cause my mom can make that happen."

"I second with Eddie what exactly are we doing?" Stan asked.

"Youll see with time im just waiting for the perfect song."

"The perfect song? I have an aux and my phone with me" Ben pitched in from the backseat, "no no this has got to be organic you cant forcing things like this."

"... What?!" Stan yelled leaning from his seat towards Richie, "what the hell are you doing with us? Where are we go-"

"Oh! Perfect!" Richie yelled throwing the radio on full blast making Stan scoff and roll his eyes, superstamp blaring through the car filling in what little room was left in the car. "Oh i love this song!" Mike yelled from behind Richie, "oh here we go again!" Richie and Mike sang in unison nodding to the beat making Richies wild black curls bounce.

"Ill give a little bit of my love to you!" Beverly and Ben chirped in with the others, Bens hands clasping on Bills shoulders who had yet to drop his seldom face.

Stan rolled his eyes before breaking into a smile, shaking and dancing a little in his seat bumping into Bill as he did so making him smile just a little for a moment.

"Theres so much that we need to share so send a smile and show you care!"

Everyone sang looking down at Bill.

"Ill give a little bit of my love to you!" Richie sang over everyone poking Bill in the side making him laugh, "come on Billy i know you love this song!" He teased

"Give a l-little biiit, ill g-give a little bit o-of my life to you!" He finally sang making everyone in the car smile wide.

Bill closed his eyes focusing on the music suddenly appreciating Richies shenanigans, letting the music fill his head and take away all his bad thoughts.

Mike started to aggressively play the air guitar while Eddie and Richie badly mimicked the saxophone solo making some laugh while the others vocalized with the choir before breaking back into song all together Bill leading them all. "Nows the time we need to share so find yourself were on our way back home! Oooh were going home!" Bill sang everyone else suddenly quiet, he smacked a hand over his mouth eyeing the rest of the group who only beamed back at him either laughing or starting to sing along with the radio again.

"No studdering" Richie smirked to himself, "thank me later" he said giving Bill a small side glance and a smile before focusing on the road again.

Bill smiled at his friend it was rare for Richie to have a genuinly good idea but when he did... Bill all but threw himself at Richies side hugging him tight, "thank you-" he muttered into Richies shirt who just patted his shoulder a little.

Despite the fact that not even 10 minutes ago he was crying and miserable, Bill felt better, his day perking up a little as another classic he loved started to blare from Richies speakers.

For once Bill felt normal.

<><><><><><><><><><>

A/N: ugh this is way short and probably really bad but oh well! This is based off of 'Give a Little Bit by: Superstamp' if you didnt already know! I wrote this for @grownups-are-the-real-monsters who is actually one of my favorite blogs on this whole site aaah! SO I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS ❤

[transboysupport-blog]

“I am here with you We exist in a world not made for us Called freaks Called deceptive Called kill yourself We don't understand what we did wrong We hide in closets more like coffins Hope to god Or something That we will be able to escape this wooden prison one day but it's not safe out there Theres too much soil holding us down And every time we move another splinter enters our body somehow We exist on cliffs Not holding on to enough for all of us to survive 1 in 3 transgender people will attempt suicide by the age of 20 I know not to blame myself if you’re over the edge tomorrow, wether you’re jumping or falling it’s not my fault. Yet if I can keep my arms around your waist to hold you here instead of letting you tumble yourself into becoming Not a pile of broken stars and tattered lace on the pavement today and a newspaper headline tomorrow, that would be enough for me. If I could steal all your blades and replace them with flowers I’d be a happy boy, that is until you find a new way to spill red. Our average life expectancy is about 23-30 years and Quickly dropping. Wrestle with the uncomfortable fact that the world doesn't care until we're already dead. Until we're a headline, If we even make it that far. But dear Listen to the soft whisper of you heart still beating and remember the complexity of your existence, every cell, dividing, Every organ working together in harmony. Remember that your spine is as strong as spiders silk Your hands are graceful even as they shatter glass Your body is a form; just a form- Clumsy and inexpertly carved But think of the shapes it makes The arcs and curves when you move The way it crumples and folds when you're tired or prone or empty Think of the shapes it makes at rest And the ones it creates by your command. It is is not an easy thing to let yourself live in your own body And certainly for some of us it's near impossible But you will survive in this body With this body So to those who decided our bodies, our identities were wrong Eat. Chew your words carefullylike communion crackers, holy and meaningless and flammable, meant to be drowned in wine. We will swallow our fears drybecause over coming nature is supposed to hurt for a little while. Drink nerves like whiskey, fast and thoughtless, it’ll always be a little toughto hold down liquid courage. Take the pain in and crush it between hard won teeth, pull it into yourself because it can’t hurt you if you own it.”